


Like a Prayer

by OdeToSolitude



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst and Porn, Biting, Bottom Castiel, Castiel in the Bunker, Dirty Thoughts, M/M, Marking, Masturbation, Men of Letters Bunker, Porn With Plot, Prayer, Top Dean, Wing Kink, Wingfic, gay hunters and their angels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-05
Updated: 2014-04-05
Packaged: 2018-01-18 05:12:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1416349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OdeToSolitude/pseuds/OdeToSolitude
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For the ever-lovely theorieticallymad ~ <3<br/>because dirty praying and sneaky Dean is sneaky ~</p>
    </blockquote>





	Like a Prayer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheoreticallyMad](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheoreticallyMad/gifts).



> For the ever-lovely theorieticallymad ~ <3  
> because dirty praying and sneaky Dean is sneaky ~

“Castiel, angel of the lord...please transport your feathery ass to our meager earth” Dean smirked, eyes closed in mock prayers as he swayed on the balls of his feet. He peeked out from under one eyelid, and when no gruff voice greeted him with, “Hello, Dean.” he sighed heavily, sagging his shoulders and pacing the room. “No, seriously Cas, show up when you can. I’m worried about Sam…and you.” He deflated, sitting on his bed, sliding into his half-upright position, filling the indent in his memory foam mattress perfectly. The bunker was deserted: Sam was away on an ‘errand’, according to the young Winchester. Dean had refrained from asking, and he had a feeling that if he had, Sam would’ve dodged the question. And now, with Kevin gone…Dean hated the bunker. It offered him no comfort. His nightmares were plagued with images of burnt-out eye sockets and his brother overtaken by an angelic entity. Especially when it was empty, the bunker echoed Dean’s Winchester’s life: blank, stagnant with memories of death and betrayal and loved ones lost. And even Cas wasn’t there anymore; busy off doing whatever the hell he was so busy with.

Cas, who was always there for him…who has been the first dependable person in Dean’s life, was the one he trusted most. Even Sam had let him down at one point or another, but Cas had come through for him, even when he had messed up.

In truth, it annoyed Dean when Cas didn’t respond to him, although he knew he was probably genuinely busy. He hated to admit it, but he preferred human Cas. Human Cas was… vulnerable, breakable. And as twisted as it was, Dean loved the fact that he felt responsible for him, (as if he needed any more people to look after.)

Plus, it was when Cas was human that _THAT_ had happened…

They were alone, him and Cas in the bunker, after the fall. Sam (or rather, Gadreel) was off in his room, seemingly asleep, and Dean was begging Cas for details about his ‘first time’, when Cas leaned in and kissed him, out of nowhere.

“I wanted to see what it felt like kissing someone I actually cared for.” Was Cas’ only justification, much to the chagrin of a very flushed, very much suddenly aroused Dean. The latter had wasted no time returning the favor, and they had tumbled clumsily into Dean’s room.

Now, as his train of thought led him to that, Dean smiled to himself, ears reddening as his mind involuntarily replayed the events of that night. The clumsy, hasty kisses, the whispered names in the dark of the room, hands roaming and exploring, teeth biting and marking, and the feel of Cas’ body against his.

  
Despite himself, Dean’s hand, much like his mind, had begun to wander, and he was only conscious of it grabbing himself through the fabric of his jeans, slowly opening and closing around his growing arousal, playing it over his clothes. As his memory belched up more and more events and stray caresses here and there, his fantasy began to feed it as well, as alternative scenarios unfurled in his head. They hadn’t really had time to try everything they’d have liked since that first time, and Dean was eager to remedy that. Now they were past that initial awkwardness, Dean wanted to DO things to Castiel…He’d have many fantasies about the angel before they had ‘consummated’, and now that they had, Dean was hell-bent on playing them out to the best of his abilities. Slowly, his lips slid open in a silent sigh, the image of Cas’ body twisting beneath him searing into his eyelids, and slowly, Cas’ name slid hastily from his mouth, and some part of his brain registered that this would count as praying to the angel. He smirked lazily, his hand now palmed his erection through the cotton fabric of his boxers, pants long unzipped around his waist, and hissing slowly, his hand dipped to release his hard-on from their confines, the rough, callused skin of his palms against the tender, reddening flesh. In slow, soft strokes, Dean’s fantasy raged and Castiel’s name slipped over and over from his lips, in twisted, moan-filled forms, sighs, whispers and hitched utterances.

At the sudden sound of Sam’s banging around in the kitchen, Dean fumbled, attempting to zip himself up, hiding his uncomfortably large erection, cursing under his breath, He’d have to shower later. Dammit, he was so close…that was when a hasty flutter of wings caught his attention, and he looked up, eyes wide.

Cas stood before him, face flushed and eyes wide and dilated, and when he spoke, his voice was  thicker than usual, “Dean”, he hissed, narrowing his eyes, and in the blink of an eye, Cas was straddling Dean, their lips smothered against each other in a hungry craze.

“Never pray to me like that…again…” Cas gasped, half-wrenching his coat off.

“Sam…Cas. Sam will...”

“He thinks you’re out, I left a note.” As if on cue, Dean’s phone started to buzz on his nightstand, Sam’s name flashing across the screen. However, the two had no intention of picking up, too occupied in each other’s arms.

Fumbling half-blindly, Cas’ blunt nails scratched at Dean’s abdomen as he ripped his shirt off, Dean complying in submission. The last time they had been together, Cas had been…well, human, and suddenly Dean was frighteningly aware that Cas was monstrously strong. That piece of knowledge both frightened and exhilarated him, and he found himself kissing Cas firmly. “Easy there, Cas…” He whispered against his lips, unsure of why he did. They contributed together in stripping both their clothes off, and soon, they were starkly naked against one another, breathing fast and moaning into each other’s skin.

Dean made a mental note then, to ALWAYS pray to Cas like that…because the things the angel was doing to him, and the way he was touching him was driving him mad. Cas seemed to move with a burning intent, his hands scratching at Dean’s side as his mouth fastened on his neck, biting and sucking marks and bruises, almost breaking the skin in his passion. Dean’s hands raked his back, moaning firmly under the impressive use of his mouth, arching his hips upwards despite himself, seeking friction, his eyes scrunched closed. Suddenly, his hands brushed against strong tendons and something soft, feathery, and as Dean Winchester opened his eyes he gasped in half horror, sliding back from under Cas to sit up in bed, eyes widening as he tried to drink in the sight. Monstrous black wings spread over them both, taking up most of the room.  Gorgeous, glistening feathers, each the size of Dean’s palm, interlocked and positioned in elegant arrangements, the artificial light from the ceiling filtering through them to cast shadows on the two lovers. And what caught Dean the most, was the fact that the wings sprouted from Castiel’s back.

“What…the living hell….?” He seemed unable to say more, and his eyes darted downwards to a very flushed Cas, who immediately cursed under his breath and slid back to sit on his heels.” Dean…do not be alarmed. These are...my wings.”

“….your what now?”

If it were possible, Castiel seemed to flush more. His gaze dropped slowly, and he repeated uncertainly, “My wings, Dean. They…they’ve manifested.”

Dean’s eyes were wide, starting at the expanse of wings hovering over Cas. They were majestic to say the least, straight and glistening, slightly quivering as Cas’ shoulder muscles flexed. Cas himself seemed to be the absolute opposite, however. Stark naked and seemingly ashamed, he hunched his shoulders closer, eyes looking anywhere but at Dean. “If they frighten you…” he started, but Dean interrupted him.

“Why are they only visible now?”

Cas’ jaw moved slowly, as if tasting the words, “When angels…mate, their wings usually manifest, since most inhibitions are lowered, and we are not in check…” He seemed to take a moment to breathe, before continuing, “They’re a sign of...arousal.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot skyward, and slowly, he inched closer on his knees, straightening so that he kneeled taller than Castiel, and with a hesitant hand, slowly touched a feather. It immediately quivered under his touch, and he thought he heart Cas inhale sharply. “Does that feel uncomfortable..?” he asked, although he still stared at the feathers curiously.

“On the contrary…” Was Castiel’s breezy reply, and Dean extended his fingers again, running them between two feathers, combing in their direction, feeling their slightly oily surface. Before realizing it, both his hands were combing through the feathers mindlessly, feeling them, investigating, feeling the boney main structure, running his hand to the where they fused with Castiel’s back.

Cas, for his part, slowly wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist, his mouth planting small kisses on his lover’s abdomen, letting out small keens and hisses of delight as Dean tended to his wings. Wings were a very sensitive thing to an angel, and to have them touched was more fuel to the fire. With a light groan, Cas tugged Dean away from his wings, laying him down and sliding atop him again, his cock throbbing wantonly against his stomach. “I’m growing impatient.” he announced, bending to capture the hunter’s lips in his own. Dean smirked, threading one hand in Castiel’s hair, his other tracing slightly oily fingers down his abdomen, finally hovering over his hip bone before gripping Cas’ erection in his hand, slowly and torturously pumping him, watching his eyes roll back above him as his shoulders hunched, keening low in his throat. Dean leaned up, taking Cas’ earlobe between his teeth, “Want me to fuck you…? “

Cas pushed Dean’s thighs apart, impatiently, shifting so that his own thighs were around Dean’s waist, straddling the hunter as he pushed him forcefully down onto the mattress, a little too hard as the bed creaked in protest. His hands got a hold of Dean’s wrists, collecting them in one grip above the hunter’s head, tightening around him like a vice. Dean’s gaze widened in sudden alarm, but Cas was too absorbed above him, exerting some sort of subdued dominance that Dean had missed when Cas was human. Again, it sent a chill of excitement through him, and he watched with dilated eyes as Cas, using his free hand had made a grab for the lube from the nightstand drawer. Within a minute, he had slicked Dean up, positioning himself over the hunter, grimacing as he made the careful descent. Castiel’s mouth slipped open in an uncontrolled moan, bending over Dean to bite harshly into the skin of his shoulder, leaving deep teeth marks as he slid lower and lower atop him, feeling Dean’s gracious length fill him up to bursting. Dean, in his turn, was too busy trying not to lose it over the excruciatingly intense heat enveloping his cock. He could’ve sworn an angel vessel was warmer than normal humans, but his brain short-circuited, and his thoughts mainly consisted of a slow, chanting chorus of _fuckfuckfuckfuckfuccckkk._

Castiel’s eyes were shut-tight, the feathers of his wings quivering atop him as he settled onto Dean’s thighs. His chest rose and fell deeply, his vessel relaxing a bit around Dean’s width. It frustrated Castiel, sometimes, that he had to put up with is vessel’s mortality, its vulnerability, but he also realized what an advantage it was in _this_ sort of situation...

Every one of his nerve endings was on fire, and Castiel bent again over his lover, mouth marking yet another patch of skin as his nails found grip in Dean’s side, the latter’s hands still trapped above him. And then, Castiel started to move.

The noises emitted from both of them were ungodly. Long-drawn out keens and gasps in rhythm with the sound of slapping skin as Castiel rode his lover into the bed, sliding on and off of his throbbing hard-on. Dean was losing it, struggling fruitlessly against Castiel’s grip, trying desperately to get his hands on him, but the angel wouldn’t budge. He rode him relentlessly, not stopping for a moment to rest.

“Cas…almost…”, Dean gasped, his hips arching off the bed to meet Cas’ descending body prematurely, and at the sudden contact he moaned loudly, the bed creaking and snapping beneath them, threatening to collapse. Suddenly, Castiel released his hands, dragging him up in a sitting position, the wings seemingly growing in volume as they spread away, arching to envelop the both of them within its perimeter. Shrouded in black and what little light filtered through, Castiel rode Dean until the latter caved, hitting his climax with a loud, gurgling gasp, grabbing onto the base of Cas’ wings for support as he buried his head in his lover’s chest.

Ears throbbing, eyesight swimming and reality in tatters, Dean Winchester was vaguely aware of Cas’ voice in his ear, whispering shakily. Lethargically, his hands slid, one to the base of Cas’ hair, twining in the short wisps there, the other to pump his achingly close hard-on. With firm, slow strokes, Dean pumped the angel, murmuring against the skin of his neck, eyes closed. With a sudden hitch in his breathing, Castiel’s body tensed and Dean was only vaguely aware of the room slightly lighting up as a shockwave spread out from Cas’ orgasm. He felt the sudden cold on his skin as the wings dematerialized, and slowly, without further words, Dean fell back against the bed, dragging Cas against his chest, finally, soft and satisfied, slipping out of him before unconsciousness took him.


End file.
